


You Can Come Tune My Piano

by musicanova



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Fluff, Kim Family Piano Tuners, M/M, Piano Tuners, Wonpil Woojin and Seungmin are brothers!, every member is mentioned somewhere along the way in small cameos!, kid!Seungmin, lowkey crack?, who am i kidding everything i write has crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-26 10:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicanova/pseuds/musicanova
Summary: [insert ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) here]also known as: Woojin, local piano tuner and walking gay disaster, has a crush and a half on a guy that works at one of his favourite fried chicken stores. Maybe he's subtle about it, maybe he's not.





	You Can Come Tune My Piano

**Author's Note:**

> Can science explain why Woochan is the superior ship of Stray Kids even though it involves the straightest members? 
> 
> I just want y’all to know that I may be a piano snob (Kawai over Yamaha any day sorry Yamaha you’re great but mmf no) but I know nothing about piano tuning s o enjoy my dodgy skirting around details of the job
> 
> Also! This fic has been posted today in commemoration of my mum ditching me to go see Kissin. Surprisingly I'm not salty, but yo the ticket was like 500 bucks I ain't complaining

 

“Good morning, you’ve called Kim Family Piano Tuners, you’re speaking to Seungmin!” 

At the sound of the young voice answering the phone, Woojin bolts out of bed where he’d been idly flipping through a comic book and skids to a halt at the telephone before he crashes into his little brother. Seungmin cries in protest when the phone is pried out of his hands, but thankfully, the boy is barely a hundred and twenty centimetres; a height Woojin can safely continue the conversation without having to turn into SpiderMan and scale the wall. 

“Sorry about that, he gets a little too excited sometimes,” Woojin chuckles helplessly into the phone. “He still has a lot of growing to do before he can become a piano tuner though, hey buddy.”

Woojin turns his attention to Seungmin momentarily, ruffling the boy’s hair. Thankfully, the guy on the other side of the phone is more than understanding, and is evidently a repeat customer judging by the fact that he asks how “Minnie” is. 

“I’m not speaking to Wonpil, am I?” the man says, after some idle chatter.

“You are indeed correct. Are you one of his customers?” 

“Yeah, am I able to be booked in some time next week?” 

It only takes a quick glance up at the work calendar for Woojin to be able to answer him. He spots only four green marks for next week, which is a pretty breezy week as far as schedules go, and Woojin almost sighs right into the receiver. The number of red marks on the calendar for the next three weeks are staggering. The only reprieve he has is that he’s never quite as busy as his father: the blue marks on the calendar span six days a week for every month of the year, only excluding public holidays.

“Do you have a preference for the day?” Woojin asks. Unfortunately, now isn’t the time to be pitying his work schedule. 

“Does Thursday work? I’m free any time.”

“I’ll pencil you in and have Wonpil follow you up on that then. Could I grab a name for that?”

“Uh, Chan. Bang Chan.” 

“Alright-“ Woojin begins to say before his arm is ripped towards the ground and the phone is out of his hands. 

“Thank you for calling! We look forward to serving you again soon!” Seungmin yells into the phone as he runs down the corridor and away from Woojin’s wrath. 

All Woojin can do is finish writing Bang Chan’s name down into the calendar before he chases Seungmin down, the little boy screaming in delight as he’s picked up and thrown into the air. 

It’s a usual Tuesday morning, really. In half an hour, Seungmin needs to be on his way to school, and the house will be empty by ten, save for Woojin himself, who’s having his first day off in two months. And he knows exactly how he’s going to spend it: snuggled up in bed, catching up on sleep and TV shows that his friends are seconds from spoiling him for. 

He leaves a note for Wonpil about Bang Chan, then trudges back to bed so he can finish his comic before catching up on sleep. 

——«•»——

The week flies by, as most weeks do. Woojin has his cheeks fondled by old ladies (he knows it’s a gross way of wording it but there’s no other word that quite conveys the feeling), he plays with customer’s puppies, he pries nosy cats out of pianos so he doesn’t kill their ears while he’s working, and he gives candy to the kids that patiently sit and watch him “cure” pianos of their “colds”.

It’s a Wednesday night when Woojin returns home bone tired and ready to just flop into bed. The problem with working for a long-standing and renowned piano tuning service (and subsequently the only decent one in their side of the city, no offence to Mr. Son) is that people don’t think to turn to anyone else but them. And on top of that, the problem with being the youngest piano tuner of the business is that any customers the “adults” don’t want are Woojin’s problem. 

(“Adults”, because Woojin will probably never view Wonpil as an adult no matter how old he gets, and everyone knows their father is the biggest child of the house.) 

Suddenly, Woojin wants Seungmin to grow up. At seven years old, it’s fairly unlikely that Woojin will be able to shrug off the responsibility of shitty customers any time soon, but a boy can dream, right? Maybe Seungmin will be a piano tuning prodigy: they’ll realise his innate talent, make him be home schooled so that he can work for the business, and get- 

Woojin’s dreams are crushed by the fact that he’d never want any surly old man yelling and waving his cane at his little brother. 

So back to square one. 

He’s twenty-three, for God’s sake. His life shouldn’t consist of work day in and day out. Not unless it’s by choice. Which it kind of is, because Woojin could very well have decided not to work for the family business and et cetera et cetera but that’s not something to get into, because it doesn’t drive Woojin’s point home. In fact, it drives Woojin’s point half way to Russia. Which is something he doesn’t want. 

Woojin sinks into his bed with barely enough energy to unbutton his slacks to shimmy them off. He’s moments away from slumber when Wonpil flicks the light on, and he sits up to whine at his brother when he notices his girlfriend tucked behind him. 

Woojin sighs.

“What do you want, hyung?” 

It’s not Wonpil that speaks. 

“I’m really sorry, Jinnie,” comes a quiet voice. No one calls him Jinnie except for Wonpil’s girlfriend. It’s kind of cute, but also strange. Woojin’s always just been Woojin. Or Wooj, which he’s despised since the beginning of time. “It’s just that tomorrow’s our 505-day anniversary, and I planned a lunch but Pillie said he’s got an appointment with uh-“

“Bang Chan,” Wonpil finally speaks. He at least has the decency to look a little guilty. 

“Bang Chan,” his girlfriend repeats, “and I was hoping you could cover for him? You know we wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t something big. I’ll make it up to you Jinnie, I promise. Anything you want.” 

“It’s fine,” Woojin ends up saying, even though it’s not fine. He’s so dead tired that he doesn’t even feel like wanting to die anymore. “I only have a 9am tomorrow, so I’ve got time.”

“You’re a champ, dude. I really owe you one for real,” Wonpil says. 

His face looks a little shocked, as if he’s surprised Woojin said yes, which is completely beyond him. First of all, _when_ has Woojin ever said no unless he legitimately couldn’t, and second of all, _how_ could he ever say no to his own brother?

Well, that second statement is a little flimsy, considering they’re siblings, and as great as an older brother Wonpil is, he is, by right, a piece of absolute shit. But you know, Woojin doesn’t make the rules of sibling-ing, that’s just how things are: Woojin’s still not over the time that Wonpil pushed him down the stairs with a blanket over his head because he was convinced Woojin would float (the blanket over his head would turn him into a ghost, duh), and Wonpil’s still not over the time Woojin ate all the raw cookie dough when they were baking for Wonpil’s then-girlfriend’s birthday (he was nine, it wasn’t a serious relationship anyway). 

“A week’s worth of fried chicken and we’re even,” Woojin sighs into his pillow as he turns to make himself comfortable in bed. 

“Can do, Mr. Kim,” Wonpil says as he retreats. Woojin can hear his smile. “God, you’re too easy. You really need to charge me more for something like this.” 

“Make it two weeks!” Woojin yells at the closing door. “And none of that all original business! Half and half with a flavour that’s-“ 

“-Not lemon, I’ve got you. No one eats lemon in this holy household, don’t worry.” 

Woojin thinks he hears his brother’s girlfriend mumble something about quite liking lemon-flavoured fried chicken, but Woojin chalks it up to deliriousness caused by fatigue. If what he heard was true though, he hopes Wonpil breaks up with her soon. Well, not _soon_ , that’s sad because they’re cute, but just some time before things get real serious and they start considering marriage. 

No one, and Woojin means _no one_ , eats lemon-flavoured fried chicken in his Good Christian Minecraft Server™. 

-«•»-

The morning is rather uneventful. Woojin pats a dog on the way to his first customer, has to stop by the auditorium where his dad is because his lever snapped and Woojin’s the only one smart enough to carry a back up with him at all times (not true, this habit has been passed down through the family for years; Woojin’s father just has terrible luck with keeping his levers in tact), and he even manages to go home for lunch for the first time in months. 

At 12:30 he leaves for his one o’clock appointment for Bang Chan, and happens upon a quaint apartment complex. Woojin checks his phone to confirm the room number, then takes the liberty of using the elevator instead of the stairs, because he’s learnt that sometimes, you just have to treat yourself. 

Woojin knocks at door 9. The plaque beneath the number reads “Bang Chan” in clear handwriting, assuring him that he has the right place — Woojin’s sufficiently traumatised by the time he accidentally flipped the numbers in his mind and ended up knocking on the door of a half naked woman who _definitely_ answered the door mid-sex. 

What answers this door, however, is perhaps far more traumatising than unwillingly seeing any woman’s… breasts. 

Behind the door of room number nine is Chris. YaYa Chicken Chris, from the Domestic Terminal kiosk (as opposed to YaYa Chicken Changbin from the Street Eats kiosk, or YaYa Chicken Cheese-sung from the Myeongdong store). 

YaYa Chicken Chris, whom Woojin has had an inexplicable crush on for the past two years, and has subsequently taken far too many trips to the domestic terminal just to see, although in Woojin’s defence, there’s an outlet shopping centre right next to the domestic terminal, and Woojin’s just a Smart Shopper™ that knows how to collect his bargains. 

“You’re not Wonpil,” YaYa Chicken Chris says slowly.

“Did he not tell you he’d be sending someone else?” Woojin replies, barely managing to keep his stutter in check. “He’s had something pop up today, so I’m filling in. Is there a problem with that? I can have him reschedule for you instead.” 

“No, no! That’s fine. I’m just surprised. Come on in, come on in.” 

Woojin is ushered into the apartment, and he finds a barely concealed mess within. He can’t blame the guy, life gets busy, and for such a small apartment, YaYa Chicken Chris has done a pretty good job of fitting his life around the baby grand piano that sits sparkling amongst the disarray. Besides, he’s doing better than Woojin, who still has yesterday’s underwear on his bedroom floor, except that that’s not a usual occurrence, and he was just particularly tired last night. 

“Do you want something to drink while you work?” YaYa Chicken Chris offers. “Clarice is a piece of work, I’m afraid. She always takes a toll on Wonpil hyung.” 

“If you have any tea that’d be great, thanks,” Woojin smiles as he sets his briefcase down and opens up the piano. Or Clarice, should he refer to it. 

Clarice is definitely a very old piano, although one wouldn’t be able to tell her age by sound alone — definitely something that has been kept in pristine condition throughout the years. She’s a Steinway, which Woojin has to say he’s jealous of. He’s always wanted to own one, except that he’s a twenty-three-year-old who lives with his parents and can barely fit a Clavinova in his own bedroom, let alone any sort of grand piano. 

They own a concert grand that sits in the music room of their home, but as much as Woojin adores Kawai’s they’re just not the same. 

As always, now is not the time for Woojin to be pitying himself. 

There’s a squeak to Clarice’s una corda, an unappealing squeal sounding each time the pedal is pressed. There’s a couple of sticky keys here and there, and the overall sound lacks clarity. Clarice sounds a little like she has a blocked nose, maybe due to the recent humidity. Luckily, Woojin’s a great piano doctor: Jeongin told him so just two days ago with a bright grin on his face as their Yama-chan (a very loved Yamaha upright, named after some anime character that Woojin’s never heard of) was healed. 

YaYa Chicken Chris is right. Clarice is more on the difficult side of pianos, but that can mostly be attributed to her age. She cooperates part way through then starts derailing once Woojin begins to get somewhere, but she’s not the worst piano he’s had to deal with. Mostly, he’s happy to be spending time with a Steinway.

“Excuse me Ya-“ Woojin begins to say, before he snaps his mouth shut. 

Luckily, YaYa Chicken Chris doesn’t seem to have heard him. 

“Excuse me, Ch-Chan-ssi?” 

The man in question comes stumbling in at the mention of his name, spewing words about how he couldn’t be much different in age to him and shouldn’t be so painfully formal, especially when Wonpil treats him like a little brother. 

“Can I ask for your name though? It’s getting kind of tiring referring to you as Wonpil’s Little Brother in my mind.” 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, that’s so unprofessional of me,” Woojin jumps, standing up as he wipes his palms on his slacks. “I’m Woojin. I can’t believe I never mentioned that.” 

They get to chatting after that, Woojin completely forgetting why he had called Chan over in the first place. They find out that they’re the same age, and that they went to neighbouring high schools. Had they been into the same sports, they probably would have versed each other, but alas, Woojin had sold himself to kendo, while Chan was a swimmer. 

Eventually, conversation fizzles out and Woojin finally says, “would you like to have a play of your piano now?” 

Chan blushes at that, although Woojin can’t think as to why, and he stands up from where he’s seated on the piano stool to let Chan run his fingers up and down the keys to test Woojin’s handiwork. He watches as Chan very carefully sets his hands down onto the keys for a couple of standard scales and arpeggios, and tries not to gasp at the dexterity of the guy’s fingers, because that’s probably a creepy thing to do. 

He just hasn’t seen someone play scales that fast in his life. 

That’s all. 

When Chan finishes playing he turns around to Woojin with a shy smile on his face. 

“I don’t know if this sounds too forward, but do you think Wonpil would be offended if I asked to switch piano tuners from him to you?”

Woojin startles a little, eyes going wide. YaYa Chicken Chris, the man of his dreams, is choosing him over Wonpil to tune his piano? 

“I think that’d be rather childish of him, don’t you? Professionally speaking, it’s natural for people to have different tastes in the sounds they prefer. I can certainly ask him for you, though.”

He gives himself a mental pat on the back for how smoothly he handled things. He will, however, probably go home to gloat about how someone liked his ear for tuning better than Wonpil’s. Unless this was flirting. In which case, Woojin handled this terribly, and he’s never ever going to ever ever have a chance with Bang Chan ever. 

“Oh! Oh uh, that’s not necessary,” Chan stutters. “I’ll contact him myself.”

“Well,” Woojin says, suddenly feeling awkward, “it’s been a pleasure tuning your piano. Call us any time you need.” 

Chan lets him out of the house with many thanks and apologies for keeping him for so long, and it’s only until the man has closed the door to his home that Woojin allows himself to have a mini breakdown. He crouches on the ground beside his briefcase and gives himself a moment to stare intensely at the crack in the concrete for a good five minutes before standing up and heading to his car. 

Woojin takes a detour on his way home to clear his mind, takes the long road to Myeongdong for some YaYa Chicken because he can’t help himself. Cheese-sung is there as usual, mopping the floors, but it’s Spring-ho that serves him this time as he orders a box of four legs to go. 

(The Myeongdong store truly is the strangest of the YaYa Chicken chains. Cheese, spring onion, garlic, why are all the employees named after chicken seasonings?)

Like the sad man he is, Woojin takes his box of chicken to the car to munch on by himself in solitary silence while pondering his existence. In a strange way he kind of feels like he should thank Wonpil, because with this opportunity he’s been able to actually hold a conversation with YaYa Chicken Chris. Or Chan, as Woojin should refer to him from here on out. 

It’s only once he’s finished his drumsticks and discarded the box that he realises there was a chance Chan recognised him. It may be somewhat conceited to think so, considering these people serve hundreds of customers a day, but Woojin’s been a _fairly_ regular customer. He’d be stupid to think that Chan didn’t at least find him a little familiar. 

Although, at this point, he kind of hopes Chan doesn’t recognise him as a customer, because that’s kind of embarrassing. He would rather be Woojin, Wonpil’s little brother, than Woojin, YaYa Chicken stalker. 

Not that he’s stalked Chan before. 

When Woojin returns home, Wonpil is on the sofa looking a lot like he’s been waiting for Woojin to come home. It’s a little suspicious, how he’s leaning back into the couch and twiddling his thumbs, his girlfriend half asleep beside him and some children’s cartoon playing in the background that only Seungmin is paying attention to. 

“Hey, how was Chan?” is the first thing Wonpil asks. 

Doubly suspicious.

“Fine. Why do you ask? He seemed a little surprised though, didn’t know you weren’t gonna make it.” 

“No way, I definitely texted him about it,” his brother says, pulling his phone out. 

He clicks on a contact that has exactly three water gun emojis as the name, and very quickly scrolls up, noticing Woojin’s eyes on the screen. Triply suspicious. (Is that a phrase?) Finally, he lands on a text that very clearly says “hey sorry man smth came up but my lil brother’ll come in tmr if that’s ok?”.

Wonpil locks the phone the minute Woojin’s read the text, so he doesn’t even have time to see what Chan’s answer was (quadruply suspicious), but perhaps Chan is just a little scatter-brained, if the state of his living room is anything to go by. 

Nonetheless, Woojin is tired, and he doesn’t quite have the energy to be doubting everything his brother says. Well, he has the energy to doubt, but he doesn’t have the energy to act upon the doubt. So instead, he drags his feet towards his bedroom to get ready for a hot shower before dinner. 

Promptly after eating, he falls asleep. 

——«•»——

A week passes; a week in which Woojin mostly forgets about Chan, because he’s swamped with work and Seungmin falls ill and life becomes a general mess for a while. 

It’s a Wednesday morning, Woojin dabbing at Seungmin’s forehead with a damp cloth as the street wakes up around him. With everyone on their way out to work and Seungmin’s usual babysitter in a boring lecture at uni (Woojin would know, Hyunjin sent him a slew of desperate, whiney texts), he’s set to spend the day looking after his little brother.

When Bang Chan calls again, there’s no one in the house but Seungmin, who’s fast asleep, and Woojin, who’s close to falling asleep at Seungmin’s bedside. 

Woojin slaps himself awake at the sound of the phone ringing, and exits Seungmin’s room as quietly as he can. 

“Hello, you’ve called Kim Family Piano Tuners, this is Woojin,” he says in as quiet a voice as possible. 

“Hi Woojin, it’s me, Chan.” 

Woojin’s heart skips a beat, although he will vehemently deny it ever happened should he be questioned on the fact. 

“How’s Seungmin doing? Your brother said he’s been under the weather.” 

“Better,” Woojin replies, “but I’m sure that’s not what you called about.” 

“Yeah, I was just wondering when you’re next free? I know you just came in, but Clarice’s pedal is squeaky again and I’m hoping to record something soon, so…” 

Woojin checks his schedule, notes once again the abundance of red marks on the calendar, and writes Chan down for next week, apologies spilling out of his mouth as he goes. Chan doesn’t seem to be bothered, citing that it’s not an urgent project, but the whole thing piques Woojin’s interest. He wonders what it is Chan could be recording, what sort of music it is that Chan plays. 

He has no doubt in the fact that the man is classically trained; his technical work shows it all, but the man’s overall vibe feels more… contemporary. Not, of course, that people can’t be multidimensional or versatile. But you know what Woojin means. He’s not trying to be _deep_ or anything, he’s just observing Chan’s nature. 

In any case, he spends the rest of the day daydreaming while taking care of Seungmin: imagining Chan as a world famous classical pianist, a jazz pianist for a bar, an accompanist, a film score composer, a piano teacher for kids, on broadway with the greats,(yeah, he derails a little towards the end), and before he knows it it’s dinner time again. 

-«•»-

By Thursday Seungmin’s as good as new, bouncing off the walls as if he were never ill in the first place, and by Sunday he has so much pent up energy (perhaps from lying in bed for so many consecutive days) that he’s begging every person in the house to play with him. 

Their parents are trying to catch up on sleep, and Wonpil and his girlfriend are getting ready to go out on a date, which leaves Woojin, once again, to look after Seungmin. Which is all well and fine, Woojin loves his little brother, but must he be so. damn. energetic? 

Woojin ends up calling Hyunjin, because on top of being a babysitter, he’s a good friend and the two decide to take Seungmin out to the movies.

“Let’s go to the cinema out west, you know the one. Cheapest tickets this side of the river.” 

Hyunjin nods in agreement, always down for saving some money, but Seungmin is quick to intercept. 

“No! I want the airport one!”

Woojin swears he feels the colour drain from his face. The airport cinema has extortionate prices. Even considering the fact that they display kids movies in 4D, it has no business being _that_ expensive. But more importantly than that, the airport is where Chan works, and Chan works on Sundays (he’s not a creep, alright? Chan is just always there when Woojin goes to the domestic terminal on Sundays), and Woojin would very much not like to make an arse of himself mere days before having to tune Chan’s piano. 

“Only if you show me the world’s cutest aegyo,” Hyunjin coos down at Seungmin. 

Goddamnit, Hyunjin.

“You’re paying for his ticket yourself,” is all Woojin says to the boy before grabbing his keys and heading for the door. 

Hyunjin tries to protest (“come on, we can’t even split the price?”), but Woojin disappears too quickly, and any aegyo Seungmin does is the world’s cutest in Hyunjin’s eyes, so it settles at that. Hyunjin buckles Seungmin into his seat, double checking that he’s extra super safe, and they head off to the cinema.

Contrary to popular belief, Woojin doesn’t make that much of an effort to frequent the YaYa Chicken at the domestic terminal. Perhaps that’s why his crush has lasted so long; distance makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that. 

It’s been a while since the last time Woojin’s been here. Long enough that he forgets that parking in Section D of the carpark will mean he has to walk past YaYa Chicken to get to the cinema. It’s a thought that strikes him far too late, when he’s mere metres from approaching the kiosk, but Woojin occupies himself with striking up a conversation with his little brother instead.

He’s about a quarter of the way past the kiosk when he hears a voice float out unnaturally loudly from inside. 

“Hey, hey look! Lover boy! Your prince charming’s here again!” 

Woojin has to stifle a laugh. He wonders who the person is talking about. 

“Shut up, Felix. He’s not my prince charming.“

God, Woojin hates to say he knows that voice. It’s Chan’s, loud and clear, the same voice that asked him if he wanted a drink, and the same voice that told him he liked him better than Wonpil. 

“Aww, he’s walking away!” a new voice says. “Poor Chrissy poo, his prince didn’t come visit him today! Do you feel betrayed? Do you want us to take revenge for you?” 

It strikes Woojin in that moment that there aren’t very many people around this part of the terminal right now, and that if these people are talking about anyone, it’s probably them. There’s a strange sort of sinking feeling in Woojin’s stomach that comes with the realisation. Like everyone, Chan has a crush on Hyunjin. 

He can’t blame him for it, it’s just the way that life works. As Woojin says himself, you haven’t lived if you haven’t had a crush on Hyunjin for at least a few days in your lifetime. Unless you’re old. Because that’s creepy, and paedophilic. But if you’re young, this quote applies to you. 

But then, the more Woojin gets thinking, he realises that hold on, Hyunjin never goes to the domestic terminal without him, because he’s too lazy to get his driver’s license and the train fare is more expensive, since it’s further away from the city. Which means that probably, although this might be a fair stretch, since once you’re infatuated by Hyunjin it’s pretty damn hard to see anything else, Chan recognises Woojin; knows who he is. 

Maybe, Chan opened his door on that day and froze because _Jesus_ , it’s chicken guy, the one that orders two peoples’ worth of food just for himself every time he comes. 

But Woojin’s probably overreacting. 

Right? 

Woojin tries to clear his mind during the movie, but he can’t seem to shake his thoughts. He’s a little mad at himself, to be honest. He paid so much money for his ticket that he wants to concentrate on the movie, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he watches Hyunjin, face dimly lit by the light coming from the movie, eyes sparkling. 

Who wouldn’t fall in love with that? 

It’s when Seungmin instinctively grabs for Woojin’s hand at a scary part of the movie that Woojin’s finally able to snap out of it. He squeezes his brother’s hand in reassurance, and turns to face the screen. He has no idea what’s going on, but it’s not a bad movie, so he enjoys it nonetheless. 

When they exit the cinema, Seungmin is starving, clutching a growling stomach that Hyunjin’s is echoing. Woojin sighs, asking the two what they want to eat, and clams up when the two of them yell “chicken!” 

Unfortunately, he gives in easily.

When he reaches the kiosk, it’s just his luck that Chan is manning the counter. 

“Woojin!” he says with a smile and a wave, followed by a chorus of oohs and ahhs and an incredulous cry of “you _know_ your prince charming’s name?”

It’s that comment that makes Woojin’s steps falter. _He’s_ prince charming? Him, Kim Woojin, mediocre man and excellent piano tuner, is prince charming over Hwang Hyunjin? _The_ Hwang Hyunjin? 

Chan’s smile is slipping with Woojin’s lack of a response and he shakes his head, quickening his pace. 

“Hi Chan, how are you? And how’s Clarice?” 

They make easy chatter thanks to the lack of customers, and Woojin chats to Chan while he waits for his order to come out. They talk about Clarice, about Seungmin, and how Chan’s never seen Woojin with him before (and that they’re really cute when they’re together). When the chicken’s ready, Woojin walks away to his table with some sort of renewed confidence, and he winks as he walks off. 

There is the definite sound of a screech that comes from the kiosk, and a stern “shut up, Felix!” and Woojin can’t help but laugh. 

-«•»-

There’s a beat of hesitation before Woojin knocks on Chan’s door. As enjoyable as his time at YaYa Chicken was, there’s this underlying fear that maybe he took things a little too far. Woojin still has this niggling feeling that prince charming is Hyunjin, that he’s read everything wrong, but he sucks it up to do his job. This isn’t about him, it’s about Clarice.

Chan welcomes him in with a warm smile, and Woojin sets straight to work on Clarice’s pedal as Chan chatters in the background. He’s rambling a lot, something Woojin isn’t quite familiar with in Chan (he has, after all, only held a conversation with the man in person a total of three times), but rambling is usually associated with nervousness, and it makes Woojin a little antsy to think that he’s making Chan uncomfortable enough for him to run his mouth. 

Clarice’s squeak is gone in no time, and Woojin stands up to say goodbye when Chan stops him, face bright red and eyes glued to the floor. 

“U-um, I don’t know if this is too forward or anything? But-“ 

“Do you want to switch piano tuners back to Wonpil?” Woojin asks. 

“I-“ Chan starts. “How did you know?”

Woojin’s heart plummets. 

“Am I really that obvious? God, this is embarrassing. I just thought you know, maybe it would be unprofessional for you to go on a date with one of your clients, not that this necessarily needs to be a date or anything but I just bought two tickets to Evgeny Kissin hoping to go with you so you can take that however you want to, as buddies or bros or anything you want. I mean obviously I was hoping you’d take it as a date, since Wonpil said you liked me but-“ 

And that’s where Woojin has to stop Chan, because hold on: Wonpil? 

“What did my brother say to you?” Woojin says, very slowly, almost unwilling to finish the sentence. Does he even want to know the answer?

“That uh, that you uh…” 

Chan reaches a shaky hand out, and Woojin waits for him to say something. 

“I swear I can explain. Wonpil and I are actually mates from composers club back when we were in uni, and so we hang out from time to time, right? Well, once I showed him this photo of this really hot guy that I saw when I was clocking in for my shift at work. He was like, _stunning_ man, stunning. And I know it’s really stalkerish and creepy of me but I just couldn’t help it so I took a photo of him and I was having this crisis over it and I showed your brother and he turns to me and he’s like hey, that’s my little brother!” 

Chan stops momentarily to take a breath.

“And I was like that’s wild man I’ve already met Minnie and he’s like five! Pretty sure he’s not this guy! But um, anyway, he said he overheard you talking about YaYa Chicken Chris to someone once? And uh, that’s me, I’m YaYa Chicken Chris, so…”

He trails off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to start chewing on it. Unease radiates from him, but Woojin’s in too much shock to say anything. He collects himself, ever so slowly, aware of how it’s making Chan increasingly frazzled, and then finally opens his mouth. 

“I am going to _kill_ my brother. He-“ Woojin stops. “Hold on. Hold _on_. Chan. Chan!” 

Before he knows it, Woojin has both hands on the guy’s shoulders, shaking him back and forth. 

“We’ve been set up! What the hell? We’ve been set up! People don’t do 505-day anniversaries, that’s five days after a 500-day anniversary! Oh my God, that means his girlfriend was in on this too. How long did he know? You don’t know that I’ve been crushing on you for two years, right?” 

Chan, to his credit, manages to only look mildly stunned. 

“I do now,” he whispers. 

-«•»-

Woojin doesn’t have a memory of getting home. He doesn’t have a memory of anything past shaking Chan like a tree in Autumn. He reaches for his phone that’s sitting on his bedside table, and finds a slew of texts from Chan. 

 

 **YaYa Chicken Chris:** Hi, it’s Chan!  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** Oh you probably know that already I put my number in oops haha  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** But um  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** Thanks for today!  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** For Clarice and uh  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** For the kiss  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** And stuff  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** Anyway I’ll see you on Saturday for the concert!  
**YaYa Chicken Chris:** : …my boyfriend 

 

Woojin colours as he scrolls through his notifications. It’s all coming back to him, how they talked things through, found out that they’d been crushing on each other for almost the same amount of time, came up with a game plan to get back at Wonpil. Yes, it’s coming back to him now, how at one point Woojin had just given in to temptation and leaned in. 

He shoots up off his bed. After all of that, what is he doing at _home_? He’s somehow found himself dating his crush of two years; this inexplicable crush that is, against everything, _returned_ , and he’s what, having an existential crisis on his bed?

He races to his car, barely remembering to lock the door behind him. Without breaking any laws, he drives as fast as he can, and takes the stairs instead of the elevator, for once. 

He brings a hand up to knock on the door without waiting for his panting to cease. 

“Uh hey, boyfriend.” 

The words have a nice ring to them.

But Chan’s smile is nicer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes or typos! I'm overseas on holidays so I kind of got a bit lazy with the editing... I might come back to fix it up later, but do tell me if I've made any glaring mistakesss
> 
> Also, if you enjoyed this please check out my ongoing Minsung/Seungjin called [Cupids Might Aim (But I'm the Better Archer)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16183787/chapters/37817465)!


End file.
